Never Fall for Your Fiancee
- Автор: Heath Virginia
- Год: 2021
- Язык: английский
- Год: St. Martin's Publishing Group
- Жанр: Исторические любовные романы
Электронная книга - «Never Fall for Your Fiancee». Краткое содержание книги:
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Virginia Heath's fun characters and situations will have you laughing out loud! Don't miss this wonderful read! - Sabrina Jeffries, *New York Times* bestselling author**
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The first in a new historical rom-com series, a handsome earl hires a fake fiancée to keep his matchmaking mother at bay, but hilarity ensues when love threatens to complicate everything.**
“I appreciate upon first sight Standish House might be a little overwhelming … but it’s just a house at the end of the day. Made of bricks and mortar like any other.”
“Just a house?” She didn’t seem convinced. “Then look at me! Do I look like I could be an earl’s fiancée?” As she was holding out her skirts, he supposed he should be looking at her clothes, but his eyes didn’t want to leave her face. A face he had the sudden urge to touch. In case he succumbed and sent her screaming for the hills, he clasped his hands behind his back, then, realizing he probably resembled a stern admiral inspecting the fleet, unclasped them and held his palms out.
“My dear Miss Merriwell, I am not entirely sure what you see when you look in the mirror but I see a very beautiful, intelligent, and confident woman.” Too beautiful. The siren was scrambling his wits. “It was one of my first impressions when we collided—even before I heard you speak. You have an air about you, Miss Merriwell. A certain something that makes you stand out from the crowd.”
“I do?”
“Indeed. In fact, you are exactly the sort of woman I would want a real fiancée to be like, if I had a mind to have a real fiancée.” Alarmingly, that clarification seemed to be more for him than her. “The fundamentals are there. All the rest is merely window dressing. And window dressing is easily achieved. There are seamstresses coming first thing in the morning and I have meticulously planned the next few days to ensure not only you but also your sisters are all fully prepared.”
She was wavering. He could see it in her expression. Yet Hugh was thoroughly ashamed of himself. “It is late and you are tired. Everything, in my experience, always seems worse with fatigue.” The soothing words were for both of them. “After a decent meal and a good night’s rest, I doubt this will seem half as daunting.”
“Perhaps…”
“There is no ‘perhaps’ about it. And there is no hurry. Why don’t I have Payne show you to your rooms? He can send up trays of food, have hot baths drawn, and the three of you can relax tonight. Then we can reconvene in the morning when you feel more yourself.” Her teeth were gently worrying her bottom lip; whilst it was very distracting, he saw her indecision as a very good sign—then instantly felt guilty for it.
“How about we see how you feel after a few days here, when you are more comfortable with this house and the people within it? We have a fortnight until my mother arrives, at least. And that is assuming the trade winds are uncharacteristically ferocious. In truth, we probably have three. Which gives us ample time to make sure you are all fully prepared and used to all the grandeur.” He was prepared to beg if it came to it. “Please—stay for this week and if at the end of it you still feel you cannot carry it off, then you can go with my blessing and the forty pounds.”
“Oh—I couldn’t take the whole forty.” She blinked rapidly, clearly embarrassed she couldn’t allow herself to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Not for failing to honor our agreement…”
“Half then. One week. Twenty pounds and no hard feelings.”
“I suppose we have come all this way, Your Lordship…”
“If we are supposed to be engaged, you must call me Hugh … Minerva.” How lovely that sounded on his lips. Even more unsettled by his uncharacteristic reactions, he stuck out his hand for her to shake in case she changed her mind and then instantly regretted his decision. Without the barrier of gloves or mittens, her hand felt perfect in his. He could feel the heat of her fingers everywhere, but particularly along his spine, where something odd, almost tingle-like was happening. In case the tingles spread, he quickly withdrew and tucked his hands behind his back, not caring that he might resemble a crusty old admiral, clenching his fists in the hope the odd sensation would quickly subside and his bouncing nerves would return to normal.
They didn’t.
He decided to politely focus on her eyes, then found himself drowning in them, so he dropped his gaze to the plump bottom lip she was still worrying with her teeth and almost groaned aloud at a bolt of lust so intense he could barely breathe. In desperation he took several steps backward, supremely conscious that he was still staring but powerless to stop.
When she finally blinked, he was able to suck in a calming breath, then forced it back out via his peculiarly strangled vocal cords to choke out one hideous, cringeworthy word into the painful void.
“Excellent.”
Chapter Five
“You will probably need this. For research. In case my family asks about your illness.”
“My illness?” Minerva took the book and stared down at the cover—The Complete Treatise of Diseases of the Lungs stared back. “Gracious … What did I have?” They were over an hour into her first “Being Minerva” lesson, and she was already overwhelmed. Hugh hadn’t told a few lies. He had constructed an entire world.
“Consumption.”
“Consumption!”
He nodded sheepishly. “I was going to kill Minerva off, and a lingering death seemed appropriate.”
“You want me to feign consumption?” She blinked at him, stunned. “This is your great plan for terminating the engagement? I must say, you are putting a great deal of faith into my acting abilities if I am to die whilst your mother is here.”
“Of course not. That would be preposterous.” His mouth struggled not to smile. He had such an easy way about him—one that made her completely forget he was an earl. But as he had pointed out, they were supposed to be not only engaged but madly in love. Therefore, her initial formality had no place in their relationship. Although Minerva suspected he wasn’t one for formality at the best of times. “You made a miraculous recovery just before Christmas last.”
“I recovered.” She stared at him, incredulous. “From consumption. The disease that kills everybody.”
“Not everybody…” He tapped the book and winked. “I did my research. To be a convincing liar—which I must warn you Standish males always are—it is imperative all lies are founded on fact. There are a few cases where the patient defies the odds. Granted, not many, and I hinted we suspected your initial physicians might have misdiagnosed your condition. The new chap I engaged from Switzerland was a godsend. I credit him with saving you from the snapping jaws of death. In fact, once you began his treatments, the change was almost immediate. I have another idea about how to end our engagement which you will be relieved to know doesn’t involve you dying.”
“I am all ears.”
“You are going to elope with Giles.”
Minerva opened her mouth to speak and closed it again when nothing came out. He saw her dumbfounded expression and grinned. “And best of all, nobody will see it coming, so neither of you will have to act smitten. A few days into my mother’s visit, you and Giles will leave in the dead of night. I will awake to a heartfelt letter, written in your hand, which outlines your utter turmoil, your overwhelming feelings for my rakish best friend, how you both tried to fight the attraction, but—and this is the best bit—because of your recent brush with death and the loss of your father, you have come to the conclusion life is too short and too precious not to live it to its fullest with the man your heart desires.”
“Will Lord Bellingham and I also be eloping with my sisters?”